Traveling in Vilnius I Felt a Tap on the Shoulder
How Vilnius, Lithuania revealed the gift of timing and the meaning found in every pause
As we move through life, how often will each one of us pause and wonder if timing really is everything? It can certainly feel that way when we travel, as time seems to not only command our attention but set the tone for how we soak up the world around us. Not enough of it and we feel slighted or hurried, too much of it and we’re second-guessing ourselves, restless or bored.
The more we embrace time and travel as complementary companions however, the more meaningful and rewarding our time away from home can feel. When we choose to focus not on the shortage of time but the gift of it, we open our hearts and minds to the blessings and good fortune that come with being in the right place at the right time. This relationship between the two – chance – is the mystical, formidable one that gives intentional travel its transformative superpowers. When tapped, it will unleash creativity, ignite self-discovery and foster connection.
Each cosmic twist of fate orchestrated by this interplay doesn’t just affect us in the present, it rewrites our future and helps us makes sense of our past. When we move with intent we stop viewing time + travel as merely an equation to balance between minutes lost and gained. Instead we can come to recognize it as a series of sublime serendipities, fortuitous encounters and nudges toward our calling and purpose.
As I sit down to write about Vilnius, time’s impact on travel slides warmly into view. Despite the one-hour delay getting out of Warsaw, my travels were easy-going. It was a smooth check-in without any overweight baggage fees, my luggage arrived at the claim within minutes of landing and there wasn’t a soul in line in front of me at the taxi stand to slow me down. Everything was going according to plan. Even the delay in Warsaw felt like it was a blessing in disguise as I was able to make a larger than expected dent in my next blog – opening up precious free time for more exploring and tasting later on.
I had landed in Vilnius just after sunset. Dusk’s golden glow hung over the highway that bent and curved in front of us as we turned down the rolling hills into the Old Town. The last few minutes of light cast the most mesmerizing halo over the city centre as we got close. Throughout all my travels, I can’t remember a place feeling as magical as Vilnius did on approach. I felt its welcoming, delicate embrace envelop me.
It struck me as I stepped out of the taxi not only how lucky I was to arrive at this exact time of day – but how the only way I could have – is through the fateful coordination of every last detail of my travels – from my delay that evening to the order of the countries I visited down to the season I had chosen to travel. Every choice we make adds up when we travel. We only catch the meaning if we look up, and we only look up sometimes when time gently taps us on the shoulder.
I awoke early the next day feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning. I sensed there was so much in front of me to take in and discover. By happy chance I had chosen to stay at the Hotel Pacai an absolute gem, tucked away in an old 15th century building in a superb location off the main street. It was stunning and chic without being pretentious. I haven’t written much about the hotels I’ve stayed in as they haven’t played central roles in my story. But the Hotel Pacai would be different. It stood out as a creative oasis, an unexpected jolt of sleek and sexy in the middle of this whimsical medieval town. Its impeccable style and taste, flawless dining recommendations and cozy but elegant vibes set an unexpected but aspirational tone for my 48 hours in Vilnius.
My sneaking suspicion that it would be easy to fall in love with the idyllic and quaint Vilnius was right. This place exuded a special unassuming but wholly captivating charm. Walking through the heart of Old Town that first day, bouncing from shop to shop, I felt like I was breaking the fourth wall, like I was inside the storyboard of an animated Disney movie – the bad guy had just died, the spell had just been broken, the princess finally woke up. Vilnius made Salzburg, which I had once called storybook-perfect, feel more like Lower East Side Manhattan.
Jokes and obscurities aside, Vilnius was bustling with the kind of energy and buzz only a crisp, sunny day in Autumn could bring. Flowers were still in full bloom, the grass was a bright fresh green and the sidewalk café tables were rightfully overrun with Aperol spritzes, heaping scoops of gelato and lively conversation. Children still in their plaid navy blue school uniforms were darting about like swallows, releasing a day’s worth of pent up energy – yet another perfectly staged scene out of central casting. The best way to put it? Life was lived here and I felt lucky to simply be a part of it. I stood there in a state somewhere between shock and awe, processing that places like this really exist.
It was easy, after such a cinematic reception, to find my rhythm in Vilnius. I’d felt a bit out of sync in Warsaw where I’d traveled from and it was nice to be aligned again across mind, body and soul. Finding our rhythm when we travel is so important and when we do our feet feel like the can carry us forever. And mine did, up and down the old town streets sometimes the same one two or three times, up and out of the old town into one of Vilnius’ more modern, hipster neighborhoods, the Station District and around the Gates of Dawn into Sirena a local leather workshop and boutique. My conversation with their sweet young store clerk as I was buying a handcrafted backpack was one of the more prized collisions from my travels. It was as real and sincere as it gets. Never mind the backpack lacked any of the functionality I was actually looking for, it will always be a reminder of the extraordinary chance encounters that travel has dropped in front of me.
With my travel rhythm set in place, the philosophical questions that had gnawed at me throughout Poland suddenly fell out of focus. I could gratefully deploy every bit of mindfulness instead to taking in this glorious little city. Of all the places I visited on this trip, my time in Vilnius was the lightest and most serene. It would soften me just in time too as my travels through Tallinn, Estonia and Riga, Latvia would surface heavier messages in fear and purpose.
Wherever I go, light or heavy, taste, my compass plays the same familiar role. When it came time to take my late lunch, the Hotel Pacai recommended without flinching, Augustin. What an insanely fabulous reco too.
I had the most delightful, lingering and lazy meal here. Roast pumpkin with yogurt, apricots, dukkah and coriander… Carrot ravioli served over a cauliflower, potato cream topped with cherries, chives and hazelnuts... And for dessert - fresh black currants served under a dollop of vanilla (?) gelato. I might have hung around for an Amaro too - all in the spirit of not wanting my lovely afternoon to end.
As much as I wanted to go back the next day, I knew I couldn’t leave this beautiful city without trying its traditional local cuisine. Once more at the recommendation of the hotel, I found myself at another fantastic restaurant where it was easy in front of deliciously crafted dishes to let time float on by - venison pate, Cepelinai, the Lithuanian’s take on the dumpling, made from potatoes and stuffed with some kind of savory ground meat, and on a whim a flight of Lithuanian fruit wines made from cherries, raspberries, rhubarb and gooseberries.
You never know until you try it may not have necessarily served me well with the wine flight… but I rue the day I ever stop doing just that – trying. Just like time and travel are intertwined so too, in my playbook are trying and travel. Why pack a bag at all if we’re never going to venture outside of our comfort zones? And honestly? I liked the Rhubarb wine.
Reflecting on my time in this fairy tale city, my head goes up to the clouds - literally and figuratively. My flight into Vilnius had just begun its descent. I felt unusually compelled to open the window shade. My eyes scanned the horizon and zeroed in on something out in the distance hovering just above this ethereal blanket of wispy clouds. Cue a hot air balloon framed by a golden sunset? Is this for real? The movie magic of Vilnius it seemed had found me before my feet ever found the ground.
Right time, right place. A most unforgettable tap on the shoulder.
You can make out the tiniest little hot air balloon if you really look for it…
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